Uncle Milty and Me
UNCLE MILTY AND ME
Uncle Milty,
A compact man,
Not really my uncle,
More a close friend of my parents,
Drove a New York City cab.
He had no kids and
A wife who didn’t smile.
When they visited,
My mother’s pot roast,
Served with little white potatoes
And yellow corn,
Prepared only for special guests,
Made Uncle Milty smile.
After dinner
He waved me closer and
I could smell the cigars in his shirt pocket.
I believed him when he cautioned me,
Catfish are really baby sharks,
He had no reason to lie.
Then, he gave me a quarter,
Told me to buy some candy.
I think he wanted one of us
To be happy.
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